


About Your Scars

by bexorz



Series: 9319 Shades of Gray [2]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comfort, Depression, Domestic, M/M, Scars, ask-spiderpool, merc peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 02:05:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9299327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexorz/pseuds/bexorz
Summary: Peter wants a distraction from the mood he's in. Wade readily obliges, and takes the opportunity to ask about Peter's scars.An ask-spiderpool alternate timeline fic. (Hereafter to be referred to as "Altverse" by me and anyone else who wishes.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rating is Mature and not Explicit because while they do have sex, it is not really described. The word "cock" is used, however.

Pete was in one of his morose moods. Wade knew why; he hadn’t been on a job in several weeks, and the combination of restlessness, boredom, and dwelling on the state of his life was getting to him. He’d not said a word all day: rolling out of bed hours after Wade got up, sucking down an entire pot of coffee, and padding into his living room to stare at the new television. Wade had kindly come over to turn it on to the news so that Pete could at least pretend to be watching it.

All day Pete sat there in his boxers and his night robe, scruff unattended on his cheeks, hair a mess, and dark circles under his eyes. Meanwhile, Wade let his jaw flap for the both of them, filling the half-empty apartment with his random babbling and rumbling song. He brought Pete a plate towering with waffles and maple syrup sometime in the afternoon. After having turned his back for hardly five minutes, Pete had devoured all of it, grunting his thanks when Wade swung by to collect the dishes.

For the most part, Wade let him be. It was best to let these moods of his ride themselves out. Wade had tried to interfere in the past, and always ended up regretting it somehow. Usually either Pete would leave, or he’d tell Wade to leave, and Wade didn’t like either of those things.

That night, Wade was swearing at his burner phone while he played his ninetieth game of Flappy Bird at the kitchen counter. Pete came by silently and slipped his arms around Wade’s chest from behind. He caressed and squeezed, tilting his head to brush his lips over the nape of Wade’s neck, wordlessly asking him to bed. Wade followed, fingers tangled with Pete’s, wondering what his lover was planning.

He hoped it wasn’t anything spectacularly outrageous. He wasn’t in the mood to tell Pete no, _or_ to handle his limits being pushed.

Pete lay down with him, planting kisses on Wade’s face and throat while taking his time undressing him.

“You know, a strip tease usually goes the other way around,” Wade said, canting his hips and taking in a breath when Pete palmed him slowly through his briefs.

“Mm,” Pete said, the barest smile curling his lips upward.

“Come on, baby boy, give me something to work with here.”

Pete sighed, planted a wet, lingering kiss on Wade’s lips, and rolled off of him onto his back. His arms curled up onto the pillow and his robe fell open, leaving his torso bare and glowing in the light from the bedside table lamp. Save for the soft dark trail under his navel, and the various scars crossing over his skin.

“Distract me?” he said. It was phrased as a demand, but the lilt at the end of the sentence made it a plea.

“Anything you want, baby,” Wade said, heat rising in his cheeks and his cock swelling to full attention. Crossing to the other side of the bed, he slid one leg over Pete’s thighs to straddle them, and pressed his palms against Pete’s well-defined abdomen.

Rolling forward, he caressed upward, tracing the lines of Pete’s ribs with his fingers, and sliding the pads of his thumbs over Pete’s nipples. He knew just the right way Pete liked this by now, and easily found the pressure points that would make him shiver.

Pete closed his eyes and sighed, tilting his head back. Wade felt, with their hips pressed together, that Pete was still soft, and wondered if this wasn’t precisely what Pete needed right then. While he thought about it, absently stroking Pete’s chest, his fingers found the scar tissue of the old injury across Pete’s pecs.

“I’ve never asked about this,” he said, tracing the edges tenderly, looking down at it and avoiding Pete’s eyes.

An effort which was pointless, because Peter kept them closed. “Lizard man,” he said absently. “Ran into him on unrelated business.”

“Kurt Connors?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Not many lizard men in the news ever.” Wade pushed gently on Peter’s robe, opening it further and exposing his shoulders. He touched the gash across Pete’s arm, while circling his palm over Pete’s nipple. “What about this one?”

“It’s called a nipple.”

Wade saw Pete crack one eye open, and a precious smirk appeared on his face.

**Oh _there_ you are, Peter.**

_You’re quoting Hook?_

Leaning over, Wade took Pete’s mouth, kissing while he shifted his weight, rocking his hips and rubbing his cock against Pete’s slowly. They were both still in their underwear, but the friction and the warmth were good. He felt Peter’s wakening arousal, and Pete’s chest heave with a sudden intake of breath.

“I mean your shoulder,” he said, catching the nipple between thumb and index finger and squeezing. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Pete licked his lips. Wade watched the moisture glisten while Pete regarded him.

“Helicopter crash.”

“You’ve lived an exciting life, mister Parker.” Wade put his mouth on the side of Peter’s neck and licked him, tasting the salt of his skin, breathing in his familiar scent. It was a comforting smell; different he might be from the Peter he’d known before, but at the heart of it he was still the same Peter Parker. Just… different circumstances.

“Heh. ‘Exciting’, he says,” Peter chuckled quietly. Wade thrust against him and he moaned.

Wade’s hand drifted down again while he sealed his lips against Peter’s throat, sucking and nibbling gently. He smoothed his thumb over the puckered scar above Peter’s lower ribs. It had a twin on his back, and Wade had identified it long ago as a through-and-through bullet wound. It must have been a very large caliber bullet to cause such an injury, and Peter must have been incapacitated somehow to not be able to dodge it.

“This one?” he murmured into Peter’s ear, letting his voice drop to the deep rumble that he knew Peter loved so much. He teased at the bullet scar with his fingertips.

Arching his back, Peter dug his fingers into Wade’s thighs. “Nngh,” he groaned. “It was— _hah_ —sniper.” Tugging his arms out of the sleeves of his robe, he caught Wade by the shoulders, bucking his hips up against Wade’s.

Wade felt pleasure ripple through him, heat building between his legs. “Spider-sense didn’t help you out?” he asked.

“Oh, it did, I just had no room to maneuver at the time.”

“Must’ve hurt.” Wade kissed him, a lingering touch, parting his lips as Peter shoved his tongue against them.

“Yeah,” Peter said, wrapping his arms around Wade’s lower back. “I’ve only got one kidney.”

“Hmm, well, you can’t tell from looking at you,” Wade said. He brushed his lips over Peter’s throat, and the slashing scar that crossed it. “And this?” he said.

“Garrote,” Pete answered.

Pressing his hands against Peter’s chest, Wade looked down at him. This had started out somewhat playfully, but now his brain theater was conjuring up images of Peter in all these bloody situations. Blown up, slashed, shot, bleeding, dying.

They’d _finally_ gotten somewhere. Pete was changing. Wade couldn’t bear the thought of losing him again.

“What’s that look for?”

Wade saw that Peter was frowning at him. Oh no, he’d been trying to distract him. “Well, it’s just, we’re both wearing _too much_ clothing!” he said.

Peter smirked again and bit his lip. “I agree,” he replied.

It wasn’t long before they had shed the last of their clothes, and Wade was lowering himself onto Peter’s cock, groaning.

Afterward, Pete lay curled against him, head tucked against his neck, finger tracing idle patterns in the scars on his chest. Wade’s arms were wrapped around Peter, hand tangled in Peter’s hair, stroking slowly.

Maybe it wasn’t perfect, and maybe it wasn’t what he’d thought it’d be like, but this thing with Peter? He still had it, and he was going to hang onto it as long as he could.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like this? Want more of it? Guess what, it's in the works. Although I'd still love to hear about it.
> 
> You can find all of ask-spiderpool on tumblr. It belongs to @sciderman.
> 
> Find me on tumblr @bexorz.


End file.
